


Anonymous Signs

by abigail89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Trio gives up the Wizarding world.  For the day.  Because there are just some things that wizards can't find in the Wizarding world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anonymous Signs

**Author's Note:**

> This fic would not have been possible without [](http://timberwolfoz.livejournal.com/profile)[**timberwolfoz**](http://timberwolfoz.livejournal.com/), who asked me to beta her fic for the fest. Reading it kicked my muse into action even though the result in no way bears any resemblance to hers. Extra special thanks to [](http://annearchy.livejournal.com/profile)[**annearchy**](http://annearchy.livejournal.com/), [](http://magicofisis.livejournal.com/profile)[**magicofisis**](http://magicofisis.livejournal.com/), and [](http://overtaxed.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://overtaxed.livejournal.com/)**overtaxed** for their warp-speed beta and Brit-picking jobs. I am in awe of your kindness.
> 
> Written in 2004, well before the end of canon, so there is a reference to Remus Lupin having lived beyond _Deathly Hallow_. I've decided to keep it as is.

"C'mon, Harry! We haven't got all bleeding day!" Ron called. "Your hair's hopeless. It always has been."

"Sod off," Harry Potter called from the lavatory. "For your information I am not doing anything with my hair." He entered the small entryway of their house, unconsciously patting his black, unruly mop.

"Right. Hermione! Where are you going?" The pitch in Ron's voice rose a notch as their female partner headed to the now-empty lav.

"Ronald Weasley, we will arrive precisely at the time Harry intends for us to arrive, so if you don't mind…" Her words disappeared as she did behind the closing door.

"I swear on Gryffindor's grave, someday that woman is going to cause me to go ballistic on her." The redhead did nothing to contain his irritation, as Harry looked on indulgently.

 _Someday Ron is going to pop a vein with his excitement,_ the bespectacled wizard thought.

He walked over and put his arms around his tall mate. Ron may have been anxious to get the day going, but he could never resist a hug. Even from Harry. Especially from Harry.

"Calm down. She'll be here in a jiffy, then we're gone," Harry murmured, then licked the shell of the other wizard's ear. That elicited a shudder and a small moan. "We've plenty of time to make the appointment I've set for you."

"Harry, not now. I'm far too…."

"All right, all right! I'm ready!" Hermione exclaimed as she came into the room, adjusting her jumper and slipping her pack onto a shoulder. She looked up and grinned as she caught her partners in an unmistakable embrace.

"So what exactly are you more anxious for, Ron? Harry or his surprise for you?" She laughed as she joined them in the hug. Ron's body hummed with excitement.

"I can't believe this day is finally here. You've built this thing up so much," Ron said, grinning. "I know, I know. I'm acting like a three-year old." Harry and Hermione laughed again. "It's just, I don't go to Muggle London as often as you two do."

"That's the whole point. We want you to feel comfortable walking between the two worlds, and that's what this day is about," Hermione said affectionately.

"Do you know what Harry has planned?" he said anxiously.

"No. I don't even know what he has for me."

They looked at their green-eyed partner who was grinning foolishly at them both.

"I'm not saying," he said, sing-song. "You'll just have to wait." He pulled away and said, "Oh, wait, I need…" He walked away towards the back rooms.

"No, no, NO. You don't need anything. You have everything," a wildly frustrated Ron growled, as he grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him violently toward the fireplace. He held out the brass pot of Floo powder. "Okay. Where're we going?"

"Why The Leaky Cauldron, of course," Harry said slyly. "Where all good adventures begin."

Ron set the pot on the floor, grabbed a generous pinch of powder, stepped into the fireplace, and cried, "THE LEAKY CAULDRON!" The emerald flames flared brightly with the power of his command.

"My goodness!" Hermione giggled. "He'll be there in record time." She turned and kissed Harry on the cheek. "I'm excited too. And I know all about London."

"Yes, but it's been a while since you've been there. I found a really neat place for you to visit, so get going." Harry playfully slapped her on the bum as she bent over to take some Foo powder.

"Hey!" She gave him her death glare, then she too whirled away in a blaze of bright green.

"Remind me to plan more surprises for them in the future," he said to himself, before squinching his eyes tightly and bellowing clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron!"

"Where have you been?" Ron demanded as Harry slid out of the grate. "Why didn't we Apparate? It would've saved us about…."

"Four seconds," Hermione said, still brushing the soot from her jacket and pack. "Calm down, Ron. Let Harry sort himself out."

Harry heaved a mighty sneeze as he ran his wand over himself. _"Scourgify!"_ he muttered. "Yeah, we maybe should have Apparated."

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A drawling voice alerted the three friends that they were, in fact, in a public area.

"Oh, hello Malfoy," Hermione said lightly. "Never thought we'd ever catch you in here."

"The famous trio out for a stroll, or maybe doing a bit of shopping?" Despite the truce that existed between them and the Slytherin, Draco Malfoy's presence did little to inspire warm, fuzzy feelings in the Gryffindors. He may have made amends with his daring exploits during the war on the side of the Order of the Phoenix, and won grudging respect along the way, but truth be told, they would rather go pub crawling with Severus Snape than spend any significant time with their former classmate.

"Malfoy," Harry said with a curt nod. "If you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way." He waved his arm in the direction of the Muggle side entrance.

"You're heading into London," the blond said. "As luck would have it, I'm headed there, too."

Ron started. "What? You'd actually willingly and knowingly associate with mudbloods and other riff-raff?"

"Ron," Hermione hissed, taking his arm. "Enjoy your day, Malfoy. See you later." She tugged at Ron's sleeve.

"Hey, I am reformed. I have seen the error of my ways," Draco said, dramatically placing his hand over his heart. "I no longer believe all that pureblood stuff."

"Yeah, that and your father's kind were oblit…" Ron started, before Harry cut him off.

"Well, look, Malfoy," Harry said, taking Ron's other arm. "Nice to see you. Have a good day."

They pulled their irate friend out the door and into the small side street. A man wearing a dark suit strode up to Harry and shook his hand.

"Mr. Potter, how nice to see you again," the man said. "Your car is waiting."

"Car? Harry, what have you done?" Hermione said happily. "Oooh, is that for us?"

The man led the four wizards to a gleaming forest green Jaguar XJ8 L sedan. He opened the door and indicated that Harry should inspect it.

"Very nice," Harry murmured after taking a quick peek inside. "You have our itinerary?"

"I do indeed, Mr. Potter," the man said, giving a slight nod, and then checked his wristwatch. "Traffic is light today, so we should have no delays in making your first appointment."

"Potter, you can drive?" Draco Malfoy said in amusement. "Your hidden talents never cease to amaze me. I'll be damned."

"Malfoy, you _will_ be damned, or at least hexed into the next millennium if you don't shut it," Hermione snapped, as she walked slowly around the car, her hand trailing on the glistening hood.

"Yes, Malfoy, I can drive. What of it?" Harry said. He opened the back door and Hermione crawled in. "Today, though, I prefer to leave the driving to this capable chap."

"Really? Well, well, well. Harry Potter putting on airs and _hiring_ a car and driver. This is quite a surprise. It's so… so not you," Malfoy said.

The last jibe threatened to escalate the already tense feelings among the four. Harry jumped out of the car just as Ron was bearing down on the tall Slytherin. "Why don't you stuff it, Ferret face?" Ron snarled.

"Okay, okay," Harry said, stepping between the two. "Look, Malfoy. What do you want? We need to get going because we have appointments to make."

"Really? Can you give me a ride to where I'm headed?" Draco gave Ron his best cheesy "Ha-got-you-on-that-one" grin.

"Fine, let's go." Harry pushed the blond into the wall behind him. Draco had a good four inches on Harry, but the black-haired wizard commanded his attention. "Not another word out of you. I have planned this day for Ron and Hermione for a very long time and I will not have you bollixing it up for us. Where are you headed?"

"Harrod's. Look, Potter…"

"Not another word." A finger jab in the chest cut the Slytherin off. "Now, get in the front seat with our driver. Tell him where you want to go, but beyond that, don't speak to him or us. Don't speak unless you are spoken to. And don't you dare even acknowledge Ron's presence."

Malfoy nodded his assent. The four wizards got in, and the driver revved the car. He shifted the car into drive and smoothly pulled away from the curb, turned the corner and slid into London.

*~*

Ten minutes of silence, and driver pulled up to the large brick store. "Harrod's, Malfoy?" Hermione said in amusement. "What? Madame Malkin's not got the latest fashion?"

"Harrod's has the best shirts. And undergarments," Draco said, as he opened the door. "Potter-er, Harry, thanks for the lift."

"Any time, Draco," Harry said neutrally.

"I can't believe Malfoy told us he buys his socks and underpants at Harrod's," Ron snorted.

"Even a conceited git like Malfoy wants to be comfy all under," Hermione laughed. "Oh, Merlin, the mental images."

"Please, I just ate," Ron groused. "And what are you doing, thinking about Malfoy in his skivvies?"

"Ooh, I wonder they're boxers or briefs?" she giggled.

"And here we are," Harry announced as they pulled into a parking lot, grateful that he could end the speculation about Malfoy's sartorial sensibilities. "Ron, your perfect day is about to begin."

Ron got out of the car and looked around. Harry tugged at his arm and directed him towards the street where he pointed to a building with a sign that said "London Metropolitan Chess Club."

The smaller sign below it said "Welcome Grandmasters."

Ron's jaw dropped as Harry and Hermione led him across the street, watching for traffic. They stopped outside the building.

"This," Harry began and he handed Ron a small piece of paper, "is your membership card in the London Chess Club. I signed you up a while back, but it was only the other day that all your paperwork was completed. I had to get some recommendations together for you." Ron looked at Harry, a dumbfound look on his face. "Today is your first official tournament that will establish your ranking. The Wizarding world doesn't have anything like this, and I thought you were too good to be hidden away when I know you can kick some serious Muggle arse for us."

"Oh, Harry. This is so wonderful!" Hermione said softly, her eyes misting. "Oh, but Ron. Remember that the pieces won't move or start fights with each other on the board."

Ron's amazed look quickly turned into a huge smile as he enveloped Harry in a bear hug. "God, Harry. It's incredible. How can I ever thank you?" he whispered.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Harry murmured in return. He pulled away, and said, "It gets better. Come on."

Once inside the building, they were greeted at the door by a smiling young man who shook Ron's hand and welcomed him to the club. "Mr. Weasley. We've been expecting you. Please follow me."

He led the three to a large room that held a hundred small tables, all with chess sets and clocks. Their young guide explained the set up of the room, and then pointed them to another table where two men sat looking over a chess set.

"Mr. Weasley, may I present Grand Master Alexander Morozevich of Russia and our own Grand Master Michael Adams, currently the number four and number six ranked grandmasters. Gentleman, this is Ronald Weasley of Ottery St. Catchpole; he is already ranked." Both men stood and greeted Ron warmly, instantly recognizing a kindred spirit.

Ron shook both men's hands gravely, and turned to the young man. "Ranked? By Mug-by the World Federation?" At the young man's assent, he asked, "But how? I haven't played by international standards before."

"Ah, but your ranking comes by the excellent recommendations sent to us. Our member, Remus Lupin, wrote that you are one of the finest young chess players he has ever played against." The young man leaned in closer. "And Mr. Lupin is one of our best masters."

Ron gave a start, and raised his eyebrows at Harry, who grinned. "Remus is the one who put the idea in my head. I'm a right crap chess player, but anyone can see you're incredibly talented."

"As soon as they finish their match, Mr. Morozevich will play you, Mr. Weasley," the young man said once again. "Then, the formal tournament will begin this afternoon. You will be matched with another junior master."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked around the large room again, but eventually Ron joined them near the main door. "My god. This is amazing. I've read about these guys in the chess magazines Remus lends me. I can't believe it." He ran a hand nervously through his hair. "What if I make a fool of myself? What if--?"

"Oh, come on, Ron! Just be your usual fiercely competitive self. Let your instincts take over," Hermione soothed. "But be open to learning from them."

"Yeah, oh yeah. Learning," Ron breathed. Then, he started. "But what about you two? You aren't going to hang around here, are you?"

"Oh, just for a bit. But then I have someplace to take Hermione," Harry said, putting his arm around her. "We'll be back around seven to pick you up for dinner. Oh, and Ron, give me your wand, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, but why?" Ron surreptitiously removed the wand from the pocket of his trousers.

"Well, ah, Remus said there are other wizards who come here. He thought it best you travel under the cloak, as it were. It's also polite for a wizard to disarm himself in such an arena," Harry said, as he handed it to Hermione who slipped it into her pack. "He said he may come by later on."

The young man returned to lead Ron to the grand masters, who had completed their friendly match, and were now eager to greet their young apprentice.

Harry and Hermione took seats to the side of the table and watched as Ron and the Russian master set the pieces. Ron smiled at them, but when he returned his attention to the board, he had assumed the look of total concentration that Harry called his "war face."

The match continued with Grand Master Morozevich complimenting Ron, making surprised faces at some of the moves. Adams smiled and urged Ron to consider moves against his opponent. After forty-five minutes, Morozevich sat back in his chair with a huge grin and a sigh.

"Master Weasley, I should have had you in checkmate twenty minutes ago. But you have a very inventive strategy, one I have not seen in many years." The twenty-seven year old Russian looked at Ron with an impressed look. "You play just like the grand master who trained me. I know you have not had lessons with him because he has been dead for many years now."

"Really?" Ron asked. He looked at the two grandmasters. "Well, I grew up with older brothers who regularly beat me. And I played at lot at Hog-at school. There were loads of good players there, too."

The three men began picking apart the moves and strategy. Many more chess players came and surrounded the table, all whispering quietly about the unknown ginger-haired player who clearly had the two grand masters enthralled with his explanation of strategy.

Harry waved quietly to Ron, who waved back with a bright smile. He and Hermione joined hands and walked from the chess club, both pleased to see Ron so happy and satisfied.

"Not to be catty or anything, but how on earth can you do anything for me that can top what you did for Ron?" she giggled as they jogged across the street to the car.

"Oh, ye of little faith!" Harry said. "I probably can't top it, but I can do something with you that you've been after me to do for years." They got into the car. "You're taking me shopping."

She squealed as the car pulled into the street.

*~*

"Hermione, no man could ever wear all of these clothes in one lifetime," Harry groused, as they picked up the large bags from the counter.

"Oh stop. After I clear out everything in your closet, you'll find this will take up little space. Merlin, Harry. You wear clothes that you've had since Hogwarts. That was five years ago!"

"Nothing wrong with that. I haven't grown that much."

"But the fashion world has changed. You have to have something that was made in this decade."

Harry stared at his best girl. "Since when did you become a fashionista?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not. But even I know when clothes wear out or become outdated. Besides," she said softly in his ear, "you are far too sexy to not wear clothes that are well made." She smiled again. "That suit you're having altered is to die for."

"Well, thanks. That suit will be covered up by oh-so fashionable wizard robes most of the time. But as long as it makes you happy, I'm happy."

Hermione gave up. They found a deserted spot, and she shrank the bags to the size of small stones and put them in her pack.

"It is certainly good to be a witch sometimes," she sighed. "You hungry?"

"Always. I know of a café near the place I'm taking you," he said as they rode the escalator down to the street level.

"There's more? I thought taking you shopping was my perfect day. Which it is. It fulfills a huge number of wishes I've ever had about you."

"I doubt that. No, I found this place you need to go to."

After a quick lunch, they walked to a smart shop with the sign "The Writing Place." They entered, and Hermione gave a small gasp.

Inside, there was a world of paper, pens, and inks. She walked around the shop reverently touching papers made from different plants and bearing different textures and colours. "You know, I love writing on parchment," she sighed, "but sometimes I really miss a lovely linen." Presently, a woman came out to greet them.

"Miss Granger, I presume? I am Hannah Reed. Mr. Potter has arranged for you to be fitted for a pen."

"Fitted for a pen?" Hermione said, puzzled.

"Yes, we will have you write with some of our fountain pens, and together we will select the size and shape that most fits your hand and writing style. Please, let us sit here." The pleasant older women sat at a desk with stacks of paper and a tray of pens.

For the next half hour Hermione tried many pens on writing papers made from a variety of fibers. The woman complemented her on her neat penmanship. When she placed a white and gold Visconti pen in her hand, Hermione purred.

"Oh, my. This is wonderful. It's perfectly balanced." She wrote her name with a flourish. "Oh yes. This is perfect."

The woman inspected Hermione's penmanship and grip. "Yes, I believe this the pen for you. Please, allow me to get a brand new one from the stock."

As the woman looked in a cabinet for the pen, Hermione looked at the pen closer. "Oh Harry, look."

The pen had a phoenix on the cap. She smiled warmly and took Harry's hand in hers. "It's fitting that it is the Animagus of my true love." She kissed him. "One of my true loves."

Soon, they left the shop with a bag of writing paper, several blank journals, the phoenix fountain pen and several bottles of coloured inks. They drove back to the chess club, where Ron was just finishing up a match. He practically bounced out of the club, shaking hands with everyone who came up to him.

"It was a _brilliant_ day!" he enthused. "I won all my matches. Alexander watched two of them and had loads of nice things to say."

"Of course he did, Ron," Hermione said, taking his hand. "I'm so glad you had a successful time. Tell me about the matches." The car was driving them towards their next destination, which, of course, they had no idea where that was.

Harry sighed happily as the excited chatter of his partners floated about him. It had been a very long time that they had been together for a relaxing, fun day. Even though they had left Ron in the chess universe cocoon by himself, he knew that Ron loved the total immersion in something at which he excelled so completely. Ron was exceptional at many, many things, but he still had the youngest brother complex. Harry and Hermione dedicated themselves to building up Ron's self-esteem at every turn. Chess was the one area in which their mate held absolute and total dominance in the Wizarding world. He regularly beat Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and the handful of other acknowledged chess masters in the Wizarding world. That was why Remus had suggested they introduce Ron into the Muggle chess sphere; Ron needed new challenges and fresh blood.

As the car pulled into the parking lot of their next stop, Harry reached over and took Ron's hand in his. "Dinner, anyone?"

*~*

Their meal was excellent. The small Caribbean fusion restaurant served up plates of food that exploded with colour and flavour. Ron finished Hermione's so that she had room for the excellent fruit desserts. Harry poured the last of the second bottle of wine into Hermione's glass.

"No more for me, Harry," she giggled. "I'm a little far gone as it is."

"Mmm, but I like it when you've had a bit over the Hermione-legal limit," Ron interjected. "You'll do just about anything I…."

"Shhshhh," she shushed, putting her finger to her lips. "People will hear."

"Hermione, no one is listening to us," Harry said, taking her hand from under the table and bringing it to his lips. "But they will see you blushing if you're not careful."

She giggled again. "That, and the fact that Ron is also holding my hand." She glanced at her other hand, firmly in Ron's on top of the table. "People will begin to wonder if you two aren't in some sort of competition for my affections. That makes me a slag."

"No," Ron said, kissing her hand, "Harry and I are not in competition for your affections." He leaned over and whispered, "We already have it. So you don't fit the definition of a slag."

"We share you equally," Harry added. "And each other." He gave a significant look to Ron, who returned it with a cocked eyebrow. That sent a shiver up Harry's spine.

"Bill, please," Harry called out suddenly.

*~*

They walked arm in arm together out of the restaurant. The night was sultry, unusual for early spring. Harry stepped into the car lot to speak to the driver.

"Wonder what Harry has up his sleeve now?" Ron mused, putting his arms about Hermione; he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering.

"Mmm, it must be wonderful because he has certainly been spot on all day," she sighed contentedly. "Not that I didn't want you with me, but I enjoyed having him all to myself today. That was a rare treat."

"I know what you mean," Ron said, swaying them gently to the rhythm of the night. "We went to the Cannons match together three weekends ago, so it's only fair you get him for an afternoon."

"And I had you for an entire weekend last month. Which was nice…."

"But it wasn't the same, was it?" Ron finished. "Harry and I were together when you were out of town, and it was great, but it just wasn't the same. Not as satisfying."

"Nothing beats that trio love," she hiccoughed and giggled. Ron smiled and held her close.

"You two okay?" Harry asked as he walked up. "She's not falling over, is she? She didn't have that much to drink."

"No, just a little punch drunk on hormones," Ron laughed. "So, Harry, what's next on the agenda? Are we going by car?"

"No, we aren't," Harry said. "It's not far. Come on."

Ron boldly took Harry's hand as he and Hermione walked with their arms about each other. They enjoyed the warm night and the interesting architecture of the lampposts. Ron squeezed Harry's hand. "I like London. No one knows us. We can just be who we are without someone coming up to you." He said it simply, without irritation. "It's nice to be able to be with you like this." He held up their joined hands.

"Ron, people come up to you just as often as they do Harry. I get a fair few comments from strangers, too," Hermione added. "But it goes with the territory of being with Harry Potter."

"Yeah, well, I wish that territory wasn't quite so public," Harry scoffed. "I like London precisely because no one knows me. No one comes up to gawk at the scar or my eyes or any other such rubbish." He pushed the fringe off of his forehead, the famous lightning bolt scar now a faint silvery line, and hardly noticeable unless one knew what to look for. "I'm just another man out on the town with his lovers. London is a bit more open about things like that, too.

"Speaking of which, we're here," he said quietly. They came to a nondescript storefront with a small golden sign that read _Anonymous._ The unmistakable throb of bass music shook the walls. "Now, I want you both to just…go with me on this one. Okay? I promise, we'll be safe."

"Harry, what is this place?" Hermione asked as they went through the door. They stopped at the front desk staffed by a woman wearing black leather. Harry spoke quietly to her, and she nodded, handing him a piece of paper.

"This is a club where no one asks any questions nor does it have any restrictions," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "Come with me."

They entered a large dance floor where a number of people were pulsating with the neo-punk music. The other side of the floor was dotted with a number of sunken sitting areas. All shrouded in darkness such that it was hard to make out if anyone was sitting at the low sofas and tables. Suddenly, a bare thigh flashed in the overhead light and a gloved hand pulled it back.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in his ear. "Is this a sex club?"

Harry pulled her towards him; a waiter took the paper Harry offered him, and he pointed to a sitting area. As they settled on the low sofa, they noticed the table was padded in black fabric and there were three walls surrounding the sofa, slightly deadening the music, but not the passionate pulsing.

"This is a fantasy club," Harry began, sitting in front of his two lovers. "Here, you can do anything, within the law, or be anyone, and no one cares or notices. We can see the floor and the bar, but because of the lighting, no one can see us." He took their hands. "I've always--I've always wanted to be with both of you in the open. I've always wanted make love to you both with other people around. You know, the thrill of discovery and all that."

"But Harry, we could always just put up an Notice-Me-Not or Disillusionment Charm," Hermione said.

"It's not the same. It's also because…." He paused, unsure of how to express his thoughts. "I think I want people to see us. When I watch you and Ron together, I get more aroused than even when you have your hands on me. And when you watch Ron and me, gods, it makes me want to fuck him that much harder and longer." He looked away shyly. "Is that too perverse?"

Ron looked at his mate, then comprehension passed through his eyes. "No, it's not. You're beautiful to watch when you're naked and aroused and making love to Hermione. To us both."

He stood up, pulling both of his lovers with him. "Let's dance. I've always wanted to do that with you in public. But first." He leaned over and plucked Harry's glasses from his face, folding them into his jacket pocket carefully. "You really do have fantastic eyes, mate."

Ron shed his jacket and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. "Let's impress this crowd with some wizard moves."

Hermione laughed, joining in the moment. "Wait. I want to do something first." She fished in her pack and extracted her wand. A sweeping motion and a muttered charm transformed her sensible skirt and blouse into a short, low-cut, tight black dress. "I've been working on this for a while, just to improve my transfiguration skills."

Harry stared at them both. "I must say, you're both taking this rather more enthusiastically than I ever imagined."

Ron stepped up to his shorter mate and unbuttoned his shirt partway down his chest, slipping a hand in to tweak Harry's nipple. When he hissed, Ron smiled and then kissed him hard. "Maybe I've thought about this, too, being with you where everyone can see I'm with the best looking bloke and the sexiest bird in the island," Ron said, his eyes narrowing. "I want to say 'Look at me. I am one lucky bastard because they're _both mine._ '"

Harry and Hermione embraced him, but Ron pulled them out of the darkened space and onto the hazy dance floor. A song with a sensuous beat started, and he wrapped himself around Hermione's back, and began sway in time with the beat. Harry held her from the front and kissed her, reaching around to take Ron's arms.

Harry's mind was awhirl. Never had he felt so liberated from the confines of who and what he was in Wizarding society. He could hardly believe he was in a public place, dancing, kissing Hermione, and feeling up Ron. Or better, that Ron was feeling up his arse. He was giddy, and the freedom to express his passions emboldened him. He cupped Hermione's breast through her dress, noting with surprise she wore no bra. He moved the slick fabric aside and dipped his head to take her breast in his mouth. She arched into him, and put her arms around the back of Ron's neck, thrusting her pelvis into Harry's. He hardened instantly.

The music switched to a sexy, throbbing beat. Ron, whilst rubbing Hermione's breast, tapped Harry with his other hand. When he looked up, Ron captured his lips.

Again, Harry's mind spun out of control as he savored the feel of Ron's tongue in his mouth and Hermione's hands opening his flies to free and stroke his aching erection. It was better than he ever thought possible.

Suddenly, Hermione freed herself from their grasp and pushed the two men together. She smiled, and guided Ron's hand to Harry's exposed cock. Ron took his mate in his arms and kissed him again, slowly caressing Harry. Harry released Ron's cock from his trousers and pumped on the hard length. Hermione watched her male partners while dancing to the music, running her hands sensuously over her own body.

Ron pulled away from Harry, who instantly felt bereft of the touch. But Ron tugged at their hands to lead them away from the dance floor. The two partners willingly followed.

As they gyrated to the music, moving in the direction of their space, two men walked by, both dressed in leather thongs, but one pulled the other by a short strap. Ron realized with a start that the slender captive was Draco Malfoy, his pointed features twisted with exquisite passion. Draco looked at Ron squarely and gave a ghost of a smile. Ron was momentarily startled at the acknowledgement. Draco held his eyes for a few seconds more before disappearing into the dark. Ron quickly that the smile was not his usual smirk, but one of understanding and knowing. In that instant Ron realized that Draco also needed, and even deserved, the privacy to express his own fantasies and desires. Making a mental note to think about what he had just seen, Ron quickly returned his attention to his partners.

As soon as they were safely ensconced in their space, Hermione whipped the dress over her head and fell upon Harry's trousers, whilst Ron divested him of his shirt. Harry and Hermione then turned and did the same to Ron. Panting with need, the three lovers briefly looked at each other. The music vibrated dully about them, which only served to inflame their passions.

"Harry," Ron said, gathering the man to his chest, "this is your fantasy. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me!" he said, his voice roughed with passion. "I want to take Hermione."

Instantly, the young woman laid down on the large padded table, spreading her legs wide. She held her arms out to receive him. The no longer shy wizard fell upon her, sliding into her tight warmth easily. He greedily sucked her breast, holding still as his mate stretched his entrance carefully with gentle fingers and magically-produced lubrication. Harry mentally relaxed the taut muscle as Ron finally, slowly entered his body . He felt Ron's hot breath on the back of his neck as the taller man controlled his body's reaction to the contact.

Harry lifted his head to watch the club's patrons on the dance floor swivel and slink against each other. One man was obviously ejaculating into the hand of his partner by the look on his face. A woman, her legs around a man's waist, thrust frantically against him. As he looked below the raised dance floor into the darkness and through his own fuzzy vision, he caught the almost imperceptible gleam of several pairs of eyes. Over his right shoulder, Hermione and Ron kissed. In his mind's eye he could see how their three heads-black, brown, and red-appeared to the voyeurs. And it aroused him more.

Harry pushed back against Ron, who knew instinctively that Harry was more than ready. The three began their rhythmic lovemaking in the position they all loved so much. Their bodies, impassioned by the music, easily moved within and against the other. Hermione arched her back, encouraging Harry to nip at her sensitive breasts. Looking upside down at the dim club she, too, noticed their audience and gasped. She now understood the power of that realization, and she thrust against Harry more vigorously.

Harry noticed the change in Hermione's passion and smiled around her nipple. He could feel the tight coiling of impending orgasm within him. Ron now angled his cock to slide over Harry's prostate, and it sent frissons of pure energy surging through Harry's blood. He arced his back, encouraging Ron to take him harder.

As his pace increased, Ron's orgasm hit him, and he cried out with the strength of it. The cries of their mate pushed Hermione over, as she too came, gasping their names.

Harry, engulfed by the feeling of both his lovers' orgasms, no longer held back. As Hermione pinched his nipples, he hissed and then boldly looked into the anonymous crowd of onlookers; he imagined them coming at the sight of the loving passion he shared with his two lovers. And he too came, more powerfully than he had in a very long time. It took every ounce of strength in his arms to not collapse. But Ron's strapping arms held him tenderly and Hermione kissed him deeply as he milked the last vestiges of his orgasm. Only then, did he allow himself to relax, and relish the profound contentment.

He rolled off of Hermione, and Ron took his place, covering her body with his as he kissed her. Harry smiled, watching them, Hermione's long hair covering the table. He breathed deeply and slowly, knowing that in this place no one cared about a scar, a fulfilled prophecy, and a hidden world made safer. Here, he was just a man who had just had sex, just like every man in the club. The fact that it was with two people didn't strike him as odd in the least. It was simply the way it should be for them.

He rose from the table and leisurely gathered up their strewn clothing, stuffing it all in Hermione's ever-deep pack. Harry straightened and took in the still-busy dance floor; the sexual energy was palpable. However, he had no desire to remain in this place now that his fantasy had been realized. He found his wand and then carefully laid on top of Ron and Hermione. He pictured their destination in his mind's eye, and Apparated them to the hotel room he had booked many days ago.

They landed with a slight bump in the middle of a large bed with turned down sheets. A lamp glowed in the corner. Harry tossed the pack off to the side. The men rolled off of Hermione, who sat up with a start.

"Wow, you Apparated all of us, Harry," she said.

"A little something I've been working on," Harry smirked, and he crawled on top of Ron. Ron's arms immediately went about him and he kissed him deeply.

Hermione scooted off of the bed to peer through the sheer curtains of the bay window. The hotel, though not a high rise, was easily the tallest building overlooking a deserted, dark neighborhood. The lights of the business signs radiated softly. Shortly, she was surrounded by the warmth of two bodies and two sets of arms. Two pairs of lips kissed her hair, her cheek, her neck.

"Oy, mate. Haven't you been on display enough tonight?" she heard Ron whisper in amusement.

"Mmm, not nearly enough," Harry returned. There was the unmistakable sound of kissing going on behind her head. "I want everyone to know whom I love."

She smiled. "And who loves you in return," she said, turning in their arms. She kissed each man slowly, their arms tightly around each other.

She extricated herself from their embrace and finding the cord, she yanked on it, opening the sheers. She pulled her men towards the bed. "Let's show the world how we love each other."

"I think you've created a monster, mate," Ron said, as he tumbled onto the softness. "She may like this more than you."

"Not likely," Harry breathed. And he loved them with abandon.

*~*

End notes:  
* Alexander Morozevich of Russia and Michael Adams of Great Britain really are the #4 and #6 internationally ranked chess Grand Masters as of July 2004 according to the World Chess Federation.  
* The London Metropolitain Chess Club actually exists.  
* The Visconti fountain pen with a phoenix on the cap (and a dragon on the barrel) is for sale at www.fountainpenhospital.com , but you have to email them for the price. I don't even want to know. Harry could certainly afford it.  



End file.
